Day 23 S-366-LYDoG:
The stories this relic could tell … This desk has been passed down from generation to generation in our family. My grandparents owned it when my father was a child, I’m not sure where it came from before that but, I remember my dad telling me how he used to sit and do his homework at this desk. I do know that my grandfather crafted the dividers and the small drawer in the middle there himself to make the desk more functional. When it became necessary for my grandparents to move out of their home into a retirement community, this desk was given to my father in the process of downsizing.
I didn’t think much of it at the time. In fact, I hardly knew of its existence until I moved in with my parents prior to my divorce. When I arrived another downsizing was in process; however, this time it was my own. My parents offered to remove the desk from this room to give me more space but, for some reason, I didn’t have the heart to displace it. Something about it had me captivated. I’ve always been curious about pieces like these which have seen a lifetime of service and would have such stories to tell if only we might uncover its mysteries.
This piece probably doesn’t have much more to share than the mundane use of everyday life but, you never know, and sometimes those are the best stories to hear anyway. Isn’t it within the mundane, everyday actions of our lives that make up who we are and what we accomplish?
I think so.
Just because something isn’t grand in nature doesn’t mean it isn’t significant and quite beautiful.
Now this desk sits cluttered in my room, full of my mundane life experiences. This is where I sit to do homework, though I’m fairly certain this is the first time this desk has housed a laptop for such a purpose; or any purpose, for that matter. I have been meaning to face this mess and clean it for months now but I have not yet found the time or the energy to do so. I typically can’t stand this jumble with its papers and odds and ends, and yet it remains untouched after all of this time.
As I was sitting here today pondering what to write, I stared at this desk and, once again, thought what an irritation it feels like to me that I can’t seem to keep it clean. The more I gazed at it though, the more I realized how much I have come to love this desk. I really don’t think I could ever part with it. It has certainly withstood the tests of time and use. It may be in a state of chaos but, I imagine that if it were a living breathing thing it might appreciate the disarray that signifies its usefulness. It’s as if it still has much to say despite its age. I wonder what wisdom has been poured into its use throughout the years.
This probably all sounds very romantic and foolish but, sometimes you need to be romantic and foolish if for no other reason than to hold on to hope. Hope that you, too can withstand the tests of life and time. Hope that you will have just as much to show for your life as this desk has earned the right to do. It is not perfect, there are dings and scratches, places where you can tell that my grandpa had probably reinforced it through the years, and spots where the finish has rubbed away.
Oh, but how I love these imperfections and what each has to say about the life of this desk.